


You’re Not Alone

by AutisticWriter



Series: Mental Illness Headcanons [123]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bickering, Crying, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Nighttime, Panic, Scars, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Swearing, Triggers, Whump, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Alison gets woken up by a terrified Kitty, and soon learns that Pat is in a very bad mental state. After catching him moving his arrow around to hurt himself, Pat panics and runs away. And so Alison gathers the other ghosts and they devise a plan to find Pat, wanting him to feel better, whatever is wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I'm a Monster Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006813) by [Hellangelofdeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellangelofdeath/pseuds/Hellangelofdeath). 



> Inspired by this fic, which gave me endless ideas for angst involving Pat, my favourite character. Very dark, but I promise there will be a happy ending. Please don't read if the topic of self-harm is a trigger for you.

“Alison, please wake up!”

In the middle of the night, Alison jerks awake at the sound of a very familiar yell. She opens her eyes, blinking in the near darkness, as her panicky intruder continues to babble.

“I really need your help,” Kitty says, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Yawning, Alison sits up in bed and switches on the lamp, illuminating the bedroom in light. Kitty stands beside her bed, shaking and near tears. Now, Kitty may be one of the more emotional ghosts, but Alison knows it takes an awful lot to make Kitty cry. Just what is going on?

“Kitty?” Alison says, blinking through the fatigue. With the light on and Alison not exactly attempting to keep her voice down, she’s amazed that Mike is still asleep. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, and I’m ever so sorry for disturbing you, but I really need your help.”

Alison yawns again, hoping Kitty won’t mistake the action for her not giving a crap; she may be annoyed to be woken up by this, but something’s obviously wrong. “Why? What’s happened?”

“It’s Pat,” is all Kitty says, her voice breaking as she says the name of the kindest ghost in Button House.

“Pat? What about Pat?”

“He’s… he’s…” Kitty sniffs, reaching out to offer her hand as thought Alison can actually take it. “Oh… just come and look, please.”

As Kitty panics, Alison swings her legs over the side of the bed. “Okay, I’m coming.”

The moment she rises to her feet, the floorboards creak. Somehow, this is the noise that finally awakes Mike, and he stirs, groaning.

“What’s going on?” he mumbles, slurring slightly in his groggy state.

Alison grabs her dressing gown and pulls it on, fastening the cord. “Oh, just ghost stuff.”

“Oh. Ghost stuff,” Mike says.

“Go back to sleep,” Alison says, and Mike smiles sleepily before pulling the blankets up over his head.

And she follows Kitty out of the room. As Kitty babbles and asks Alison to walk faster, Alison tries to get more info out of Kitty (and also pull herself out of her half-asleep state), but she’s fighting a losing battle.

“Kitty, can you tell me more about this?” she asks.

But Kitty simply sniffs, shakes her head and says, “I, I can’t. Please, you’ll understand when we get there.”

After asking this twice more, Alison gives up. After all, they’re nearly there.

Kitty leads Alison to Pat’s bedroom, and she glances at the ghost for a second. Just what could be happening to have Kitty in this state? She’s almost scared to open the door, but she has to find out. Taking a deep breath, Alison puts her hand on the doorknob and opens the door.

And then she stares, horrified. Pat sits on the edge of his bed, crying. Pat, the most cheerful ghost in the house, is crying. And not just a few tears gracefully sliding down his face. No, he’s full-on sobbing, his breath catching in his throat as he lets out proper, agonised sobs. Alison’s chest hurts, unable to cope with this.

But what really makes her feel sick is what his right hand does. For that hand is wrapped around the arrow that sticks out of his neck, forcing it upwards at an angle that would cause a living person excruciating pain. He really is trying to hurt himself.

And staring at his hands brings her attention to his arms. Pat has his cuffs unbuttoned, exposing his forearms. His skin on both forearms is littered with scars, one area covered with a large plaster and one cut only just scabbed over, suggesting he only did it a couple of days before he died. Oh God. When Pat was alive, he used to cut himself. The lovely, kind Pat hates himself so much he would do this to himself…

“Pat?” Alison says, really starting to feel sick.

Pat, who had been too absorbed in what the hell he is doing to himself, jumps at her voice, his head jerking up. When he sees Alison and Kitty in the doorway, Pat lets out a tiny gasping sound. He jumps to his feet, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead to scrub at his eyes with the back of his hands. But that still leaves tear trails all over his cheeks, and snot making a mess of his moustache. He looks a total wreck.

And then Pat does something that manages to break Alison’s already shattered heart:

He smiles.

He tucks his hands behind his back, stands up straight and puts the biggest smile he can manage on his face. It’s so obviously fake, agony just behind this mask, but he doesn’t let it drop. Does he do these fake smiles a lot? How did she not notice what’s wrong with Pat?

“Oh, h-hello there, Alison,” he says, trying to be cheerful but his voice coming out congested and weak from crying. “What are you doing up so late?”

Kitty stares at Pat, her eyes flicking back to Alison before looking at Pat again. She looks him up and down, and her tears spill over.

“Oh, Kitty, don’t cry,” Alison says, wishing she could Kitty to comfort her.

But her words don’t help. Kitty just sobs and sobs, whilst Pat gets closer and closer to breaking down again.

“And Pat, you can drop the act,” she adds, trying to keep her voice as soft as possible. “I know you’re upset.”

His smile twitches, and Pat sniffs. “Me, upset? I’m not upset, Alison. No need to worry about me.”

“Don’t lie, Pat!” Kitty cries, sobbing harder. “I was walking past your room and heard the most agonised of sobs, and when I put my head through the wall to investigate, I saw you m-moving your arrow and crying. You were doing it when we walked in!” Kitty wraps her arms around herself, sobs cracking in her throat. “Please, Pat, why are you doing this to yourself?”

Pat looks between them, more tears shining behind his smeary glasses, and his bottom lip wobbles. And without saying a word, he turns and bolts through the wall, leaving them alone.

“Pat!” Kitty calls after him, trembling.

“Please, Kitty, you’re making things worse,” Alison says, really wondering if she might throw up. “He needs our support right now.”

“But, but why is he hurting himself?” Kitty moans, covering her face with her hands.

“I don’t know.” As Alison stares at the sobbing Kitty and the place where Pat was sitting, she comes to a decision. “Kitty, come with me. We need backup.”

“Wh-What?”

“We need the others. We can’t help Pat all by ourselves.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of past child abuse.

Pat runs and runs, hurling through the endless hallways of Button House, unsure where he is actually going and sobbing so hard he can barely see. Tears splatter the lenses of his glasses, making his vision worse than if he wasn’t wearing them. He grabs his arrow and jerks it upwards, wincing at the discomfort it causes. But it’s isn’t pain. Not real pain.

He misses pain.

He groans, gasping for breath despite not needing to breathe, and jumps through an external wall. He catches his footing on the driveway outside the front of the house, trembling. Pulling his arrow in an abnormal position again, Pat glances around before running off into the grounds, pitch black except for the moonlight. He might get lost, but he doesn’t care.

He just runs, not sure what to do.

Kitty saw. Alison saw.

They saw him breaking down.

He twists the arrow again, yelping in discomfort.

But there isn’t the sharp jolt of pain he remembers from being alive, and more tears spill down his face. He needs the pain. Pain distracts him when his mind is spinning in circles of self-hatred and terror.

Pain is the perfect punishment for a monster of a man like him.

He hates himself. He has always hated himself.

When he was alive, he had friends and Carol and his son and the kids he worked with at Cubs and Scouts, but he always felt like no one really liked him. And now in his eternity trapped at Button House, he talks to his fellow ghosts and Alison, but that same doubt eats away at him. Do they actually like him?

Well, he knows one thing for certain. Now Alison has seen this, she will hate him.

Pat whines, ducking behind a tree and squatting on the ground, grabbing both ends of his arrow and pulling them at angles that make nauseating discomfort roll through him. He needs this.

He needs to punish himself and cry himself out and calm down, and then he can go back to being the smiley, happy Pat everyone knows and (probably) likes, and then it’ll be like none of this ever happened.

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” he mumbles to himself, sobbing harder. “They’ll hate me.”

Soon after he died, Pat tried to pull the arrow out of his neck. But it just made him yelp and retch, and he realised it wasn’t going anywhere. But that day in 1984, he learned just how horrible it feels to do that to himself.

But it’s not the same as a razor.

Pat sniffs and slumps on the ground, wishing he could feel the cold.

Will the others come for him? Probably not. And if they do, they’ll probably just yell at him for being stupid.

That’s what Mam always said when Pat cried. Right before calling him useless and fat and a waste of space. Stupid Pat, always crying.

That’s how it always was.

He cut himself for the first time when he was ten. Mam slapped him and called him a monster for mutilating his body.

He calls himself a monster when he does something bad, echoing his mother. And he hurts himself. Well, he used to. Now all he can do is move his arrow and cry.

More tears spilling down his face and the word ‘monster’ echoing around his mind, Pat looks down at his arm, at the scars that pattern his skin. He brings his hand up to his face to wipe his eyes, and accidentally scratches himself with one of his fingernails. It’s not painful, but the discomfort feels sharper than before

He looks at his nail, and at his arm. And as tears spill down his face, Pat manages a smile.

_I’ll feel better soon._

\---

Alison bursts out of Pat’s bedroom, the sobbing Kitty scuttling along behind her.

“Alison, what do you mean ‘backup’?” she asks.

“I mean, we need the others. We’ll organise a proper search and find Pat. Kitty,” Alison says, stopping, turning around and facing the sobbing ghost. “I need your help too. Can you get the women? I’ll get the men. And we’ll meet in the common room. Okay?”

Kitty looks at her, eyes red from crying, but nods. “Of c-course.”

And she runs off, her cries making Alison’s chest ache.

“Okay, where to start?” she mutters to herself, trying to ignore the nausea in her guts.

She hasn’t lived her that long, but Alison knows the bedrooms each ghosts tend to use. Robin is closest, so she runs there first, struggling to catch her breath.

Alison knows she needs to keep calm, but images of Pat sobbing and those awful scars and him trying to self harm with the arrow flood her mind, and tears sting her eyes. She has to resolve this. She can’t cope with Pat being so severely depressed and hiding it from them all. Why did he hide it? She could’ve helped.

But it’s pointless thinking about that now. At this moment, she needs to locate the ghosts and make them all help her search for Pat. She can think of what to do when they find him when it happens. Ugh, her head hurts. Alison groans and stops dead outside Robin’s room.

She bursts inside without knocking, vaguely satisfied when he jumps. Robin spins to look at her, frowning in confusion.

“Alison? What doing in my room?”

“I need your help. Come to the common room right now. Please.”

Thankfully, Robin nods. “Oh. Okay.”

One down.

She gets Julian next, and gets an eyeful when she walks into his room to find him sprawled on the bed, proving once and for all that he doesn’t have underpants either. Alison groans and Julian chuckles, but he stops when he sees her face.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just, please, can you go to the common room? we need to have a meeting.”

“Okay, okay, keep your hair on,” Julian says, but he heads off in that direction.

Thomas is the easiest of them all, as he has a slightly annoying habit of doing whatever she wants.

“Oh, my darling Alison, what brings you to my quarters this late into the night?” he says, standing up.

“Common room. Now.”

And in a move that would be hilarious in any other situation, Thomas smiles and nods and runs straight through the wall.

In Humphrey’s bedroom, she finds his body but not his head, and sighs. So Alison turns around and heads for the final male ghost: the Captain.

She knocks on his door and pokes her head into the room, and fidns him sat up in bed, staring at the door. Did he hear her coming?

“Sorry for disturbing you, Captain,” she says. “But we need you to come to the common room for an emergency meeting.”

“A meeting, you say? Well, if it is that important yu need to wake me in the middle of the night, I will accompany you,” he says.

Alison smiles. “Thanks. Oh, and if you see Humphrey’s head on the way, please pick him up.”

“Will do,” the Captain says, grabbing his swagger stick and slipping through the wall.

So, that’s that. Taking a deep breath, Alison runs through the large house, floorboards creaking under her feet, hoping Kitty managed to wrangle Mary and Fanny with as much ease as she did.

When she reaches the common room, she’s desperately out of breath. Alison doubles over, panting for breath and hoping she won’t throw up. When she straightens up, she finds Kitty, Mary, Fanny and the guys (including the head, but not the body, of Humphrey) all stood around, mumbling to each other.

Kitty is still crying, and Alison stares as Robin and Fanny try their best to comfort her. However, his language skills and her inability to talk to anyone who isn’t exactly like her means they’re not the best comforters in the group.

Shaking her head, Alison enters the centre of their huddle, and clears her throat. “Did Kitty tell you why we’re all here?”

“No. I was unable to understand less than one in ten words that came out of her mouth,” Fanny says, stiffly rubbing Kitty’s back in a way that makes it clear she has never done so before.

“Okay,” Alison says, inhaling slowly. “Right, so, I need your help.”

“Yes, I gathered as much when you recruited me,” the Captain says. “Help with what?”

“Hey, why isn’t Pat here?” Julian says, staring around the room.

“Oh, no Pat,” Robin says, frowning in confusion as he pats Kitty’s shoulder with a clumsy hand.

“Well, it’s kind of… about Pat,” Alison says. “Me and Kitty found him about ten minutes ago. He… he’s having some kind of mental breakdown.”

“What?” Thomas says, pressing a hand to his bullet wound. “Patrick, is…?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. He was sobbing his heart out and ran away when Kitty started crying too and I told him he could stop pretending to smile.”

“Holy shit,” Julian mutters.

“We need to find him. I know he can’t… kill himself, but… we shouldn’t leave him alone in this state,” Alison says.

“Quite right,” the Captain says, nodding. “I say we split up and comb the house and grounds until we find Patrick.”

“I thought we’d all already thought of that,” Thomas says, and the Captain chooses to ignore him.

“It is hard to imagine one as kind as Patrick in such a state,” Fanny says slowly. “But… emotions are strange beasts.” She stands up. “I think we should begin the search as soon as possible.”

As the ghosts murmur in agreement, Alison realises one has been suspiciously silent: Mary.

She turns around and finds Mary stood behind the sofa, a nervous frown on her face and her arms wrapped around herself.

“Mary?” she says.

Mary flinches. “Oh, Alison. Yous startled me.”

“Sorry. Are you okay? You haven’t said a word this whole time.”

“I… I was thinking about… Pat. I’s… I’s got something to tells you.”

“Huh?” Alison steps closer. “Mary, what are you talking about?”

The conversation between the others dies, leaving the room silent except for Kitty’s sobs.

“Mary?”

Mary looks at Alison, guilt eating away at her. “Pat never wanted me to, to tells anyone. It’s a secret. But…”

“Mary, it’s okay to break secrets in situations like this,” Julian says. “They’re just promises, after all.”

“Shut up, Julian,” the Captain says. “Let Mary speak.”

Mary hugs herself tighter, trembling. “Back in the year theys was building that monster wheel in London and talking all about some sort of bug thing ruining alls their witchcraft devices—”

“Mary, are you trying to describe 1999?” Humphrey says from his position in Robin’s grip. “You know, that millennium wheel and that computer bug they kept talking about on the television. Don’t understand what any of it meant, but I remember them talking about it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s the one,” Mary says, nodding. “In… that year… this happened.”

“What happened?” Fanny says.

“This.”

“What does ‘this’ mean?” Humphrey asks.

Mary sighs, and it clicks in Alison’s mind.

“Oh siht… Mary, do you mean back in 1999, Pat had a breakdown like this one?”

Mary gives a slow nod, and the ghosts all stare at each other.

“Since when?” Julian says.

“I had no idea that occurred,” the Captain says.

“Thats was the secret,” Mary mumbles, close to tears. “I… I found him. I helped him. He didn’t want yous all to knows about it so… I… kept a secret. But now…”

“It’s okay to tell us this, Mary,” Alison says as Thomas places an awkward hand on Mary’s shoulder. “It’s going to help Pat. You did the right thing?”

“Truly?” Mary says.

As the ghosts nod, Alison says, “Yeah, truly.”

“Right,” the Captain says. “Let’s get to it. Operation: Find Patrick begins now.”

And as the Captain and Thomas argue about where they each should search, Alison looks at Mary, images of Pat hurting himself circling in her mind.

“It’s okay, Mary,” she says. “We can help him. Just like you did back then.”

Mary smiles weakly and tears sting Alison’s eyes.

They have to find Pat. For Mary’s sake, as well as his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really will be a happy ending! I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Julian wanders across the grounds of Button House, unable to feel the cold but wrapping his arms around himself nevertheless. He can barely see where he is going, the moon being the only source of light this far from the house, and Julian walks straight through a tree before he realises it is there.

This is ridiculous, but he can’t just stop. He needs to keep searching. Otherwise they’re never going to find Pat.

He shivers, even though he’s not cold. Julian just can’t forget the conversation he witnessed ten minutes ago, when Alison told them all how Pat is having some kind of breakdown and ran away after she caught him crying, and they need to find him as soon as possible. And it only got worse when Mary told them all how Pat had a breakdown like this back in 1999 (twenty bloody years ago!) and she kept it a secret for him.

It’s just… Jesus Christ. How does he even explain this? Thinking of Pat, the most cheerful ghost in the house and probably the most cheerful person Julian met in life, in this way is really disconcerting. How long has Pat felt like shit and kept it all to himself, a fake smile on his face?

He supposes that Pat must have depression, which means he had it before he died too. But now he’s a ghost, Pat can’t take medication or go to a therapist, so… he’s just stuck like this. the poor bastard. What did Pat do to deserve this?

Grimacing, Julian breaks into an awkward run, exposing himself when his shirt tails ride up, but he’s beyond caring. He just needs to locate Pat as soon as possible. Like Alison said, Pat can’t kill himself, but that doesn’t mean they can just leave him alone to deal with this. Nobody should have to deal with this sort of shit alone.

Now wandering through the woodland on the grounds, Julian can barely see a thing. Unless moonlight streams through gaps in the canopy of leaves, he can’t even see his hand in front of his face. He walks through trees and has branches pass straight through his face, each time making himself jump.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, groaning.

Still, he wanders further. And as Julian wonders how far he will have to walk before he hits the boundary of the estate and can’t go any further, he hears something. He stops, glancing around and straining to concentrate. It was probably just a bird, but he can’t be certain.

He creeps forwards on tiptoes, tensed up with the effort of listening for the sound again.

Ah, there it is! Through the silence, the sound happens again, and Julian gets a better listen this time. And his stomach twists.

It was a sob.

He moves in the direction the sound came from, and starts to hear more and more. Sobs drift towards him, violent sobs that tremble and crack with effort, and Julian’s stomach clenches.

It’s Pat.

“Pat?” he whispers.

Pat gasps, and Julian hears scrabbling as Pat stands up.

“No, don’t run away. Pat, where are you?”

Practically blind in the darkness, Julian stumbles closer, able to hear Pat sniffing and breathing heavily, holding his hands out in front of him like a bloody zombie. When his hand collides with the softness of Pat’s stomach, they both jump.

“Oh, here you are,” Julian says, grabbing Pat’s shoulder before he can run away.

Pat steps backwards and Julian moves with him, not about to let him run off again.

“It’s okay, Pat. I’m not angry with you. Just confused and… worried,” Julian says, adding his final word in an awkward mumble.

Pat jerks backwards again, sniffling. “J-Julian, please leave me a-alone.”

“No, we don’t want you to be alone,” Julian says, and Pat steps backwards again.

Julian stares. In his new position, Pat stands under a gap in the canopy of leaves, and moonlight shines across him. it’s not much, but Julian can see him now. And… he just stares.

Pat looks absolutely awful. His face is bright red and smeared in tears, his bottom lip trembles and his moustache and top lip are covered in snot from crying so hard. Tears splatter his lenses, and his hair is a mess like Pat has ran his hands through it.

“Jesus, Pat,” Julian mutters, not sure what else to say.

Pat flinches, and Julian puts his other hand on Pat’s other shoulder, keeping him firmly in place.

“Please don’t… please don’t b-be mad,” Pat mumbles, sniffing.

“I already told you I’m not angry. Just… tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Bollocks!” Julian says, wanting to kick himself when Pat flinches. “Shit, sorry. I just… there’s so obviously something wrong with you. Alison said—”

“Alison told you?” Pat says, more tears running down his blotchy face. Terror flashes in his eyes. “Julian, d-do you hate me?”

“What? Of course not! Why would I?”

“B-Because I, I’m a monster,” he whispers, and Pat’s face crumples.

“What are you talking about?” Julian says, having no idea what to do. He’s never seen anyone in a state like this. How can he even help. “You’re not a monster, Pat. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the nicest bloke I know.”

“Y-You’re lying. You have to be lying.”

“Why?”

Pat sighs shakily, closing his eyes. And as he raises his hands up to head height, he says, “Mam said you h-have to be a monster to… hurt yourself.”

Julian blinks, confused. But then he focuses on Pat’s arms, and flinches. Pat’s shirt sleeves are unbuttoned, exposing both his arms up to his elbows. His skin is covered in scars, scabs and plasters, and the thin, regular scars set off a blaring alarm in Julian’s head. Oh God. They’re self harm scars.

Pat’s left arm is covered in faint red scratches, ones that look like they were made with fingernails, not drawing blood but leaving red marks that take several days to go away. And near his wrist, some of the scratches seem to form a shape. They… they look like an ‘M’.

“Oh God…” he mutters before he can stop himself. Was Pat trying to scratch the word ‘monster’ into his arm?

Pat covers his face, trembling. “See?” he says, voice muffled. “Y-You think so too.”

Before he really thinks about what he is doing, Julian steps closer, wraps his arms around Pat and pulls him into a tight hug. He rubs his right hand up and down Pat’s back, bringing his left up to Pat’s neck, where he pushes gently, encouraging Pat to press his face against Julian’s chest.

Pat flinches, going stiff at the rather random hug. “J-Julian.”

Putting aside his embarrassment (has he even hugged a bloke before?), Julian doesn’t let go. “Sorry for being random, but I didn’t know what else to do. Bloody hell, Pat, I’m so sorry.”

Relaxing slightly into the hug, Pat sniffs, tears soaking into Julian’s shirt and his glasses pressed awkwardly between them. “W-Why’re you saying sorry?”

“It’s just… you’re really ill.”

“No I’m not.”

“No, I meant… mentally. You must have depression or something. You’re so unwell, and… you’ve been bottling it up for all this time. You poor bastard.”

Pat gasps. “You, you’re not angry?”

“No, I’m not.”

“But… I… hurt meself.”

Julian sighs, trying to get thre image of those scars out of his mind. “Yeah, you did. But why should I hate you for that? Nobody wants to hurt themselves, Pat – well, except for masochists, but that’s totally different.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, nobody wants to do these things to their own body. Unless they’re unwell. And your brain clearly thinks you deserve the pain from self-harming, but it’s all bollocks, Pat. Nobody deserves pain. And I don’t give a flying fuck what your mum thought about you. She sounds like a hateful piece of work.”

“No, she’s me m-mam—”

“Pat, you can love someone even if they treat you like shit. If she upset you enough to make you cut yourself and then turned it back on you, she sounds like a horrible person. She’s the monster, not you. You’re not a monster. You’re… a nice person. And you don’t deserve all this.”

Realising he’s getting a bit choked up, Julian clears his throat again.

“Do you understand?”

Pat trembles, sniffling, and slumps against Julian. “I… I… I’m not a monster?”

“Of course you’re not,” Julian says, rubbing Pat’s back. “Now, why don’t we go back inside?”

Pat stumbles backwards, scrubbing at his face and staring up at Julian. “But… but what if they hate me?”

“They don’t hate you. Kitty was in tears over this. Alison got us all up and she was so worried about you. Even Fanny was worried. And Mary feels like shit because she never told us about last time.”

“L-Last time?” Pat says, and he flinches. “Oh no…”

“No, it’s okay,” Julian says before Pat can panic again. “Mary reluctantly told us about what happened in 1999, and Alison comforted her. Mary’s all right, really.”

Pat sniffs. “Oh… that’s good.”

“So, do you want to go back indoors?”

Tears brimming in his eyes, Pat nods. “Yeah… s-sounds like a plan.”

\---

After scanning the loft for signs of Pat, Alison sighs and heads back to the common room. She finds the Captain, Thomas and Fanny are already here, and slumps on the sofa.

“No sign in the loft,” she says.

“Blast,” the Captain says, sighing. “I had no luck in the East Wing – and the plague ghosts in the cellar assured me that they haven’t seen Patrick either.”

“Yes, my search of the outbuildings was also unsatisfactory,” Thomas says, giving a far more dramatic sigh.

“As was my search of the West Wing,” Fanny says.

“Great,” Alison mutters. Pat has to be somewhere (he can’t leave the grounds, after all), but the house and grounds are massive. It could take them hours to find him. “Does anyone else feel sick?”

“It’s physically impossible for ghosts to vomit, but, yes, we are capable of feeling nauseated,” the Captain says.

“And I do feel rather unwell right now,” Thomas says, pressing a hand to his bullet wound.

“I hope the others have some success in finding Patrick,” Fanny says, sighing. “Although I’m still finding it hard to believe one as kind as Patrick could be this unwell.”

“Mental health problems don’t discriminate, Fanny,” the Captain says, and something about his expression tells Alison he knows more than he lets on.

“You’re certainly right,” Alison says, staring straight ahead.

A few minutes later, Mary and Kitty wander into the room. Kitty has stopped crying, but still trembles, whilst Mary still looks as anxious as she did after she told them all about Pat.

“Any luck?” Alison asks.

They both shake their heads, sighing.

When Robin (carrying Humphrey’s head) returns, Alison realises only Julian is left. And if he comes back without Pat, they’re going to have to start their search all over again.

She just wants to find Pat. She wants to help him.

\---

His whole body aching and his legs trembling beneath him, Pat clings to Julian’s arm as though Julian might run away if he lets go. The tears have almost stopped, but his eyes still burn from crying so much. And although Julian did a great job at calming him down, doubt still eats away at Pat, part of him convinced that everyone is going to hate him.

Julian keeps glancing at Pat as they walk across the grounds, heading back to Button House, and Pat can’t get over how… nice Julian has been to him. now, Julian isn’t a nasty person, but he’s not the nicest ghost in the house either, and been known to mock Pat for crying easily when they watch sad films. So for Julian to have been so soft with him – and even hug him – Pat isn’t quite sure how to react.

To be honest, all he can think about right now is how he made a total fool of himself. Just like before, the self-hatred and low mood and memories of his mother (who, after his conversation with Julian, Pat has finally begun to realise was really abusive towards him as a kid) got to him, and he cracked, just needing to feel pain and cry.

When Mary found him last time, Pat only calmed down when she hugged him, but it still took him a while to realise she didn’t hate him. And just like last time, his thoughts jumped straight to hatred when the others found him. He supposes his brain jumps to people hating him like that because… Pat has always struggled with self-hatred, and it’s hard to imagine other people liking you when you hate yourself.

So even though he knows the others will be nice to him, he still can’t get rid of that doubt, and he shivers despite not feeling the cold.

“Calm down, Pat,” Julian says, using the same tone he uses whenever a noise makes Thomas jump; Pat guesses this tone is Julian’s best attempt at being reassuring, something he probably never did during his life.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise so much.”

Pat stops himself before he apologises again, and smiles weakly. “Um… thank you.”

Julian smirks. “You’re welcome. Now, hurry up. We shouldn’t keep them all waiting.”

\---

“Pat! It’s Pat!”

Alison jumps as Robin comes hurtling into the common room, reminding her of a guard dog.

“What?” the Captain says, frowning.

Robin looks at them all, and points to the doorway. “Pat and Julian. Coming up stairs.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Thomas says, slumping against the room.

Across the room, Alison watches as everyone seems to deflate, most of their anxious tension fading away. Mary appears to be near tears.

“Okay, guys,” Alison says, standing up. “Listen, when Pat gets here, we shouldn’t overwhelm him. so… let’s not run over to him and make a fuss.”

“That’s a good idea,” Humphrey says, now propped awkwardly against a sofa cushion ever since Robin abandoned him to have a walk around.

“Maybe Mary should talk to him first?” Kitty suggests, voice still weak from crying.

Mary looks up, smiling weakly. “Really?”

Alison nods. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. And nobody say anything to upset him, all right?”

As the ghosts all nod, Pat and Julian appear in the doorway. Pat trembles and clings to Julian’s forearm, looking even worse than he did earlier. But at least he’s not crying. And his sleeves appear to be buttoned up again, hiding his scars. Julian looks rather awkward (clearly not used to looking after people), but he places a hand on Pat’s back, gently guiding him into the room.

“So, I found Pat,” Julian says, scanning the room.

Just as Alison suggested, they don’t go rushing towards Pat and overwhelm him with worries and questions. No, they all stay put and smile at him, although most of their smiles are obviously fake. Only Mary approaches Pat, fiddling with her sleeves and bowing her head.

“Um… hello,” Pat says, voice a bit hoarse.

Mary walks right up to Pat and pulls him into a hug. Pat stumbles backwards, but soon relaxes into the embrace, patting her back.

He chuckles awkwardly. “Hello, Mary.”

“I’s so glad you’re safe, Pat,” Mary says.

Alison’s chest aches, and Kitty rubs her eyes. Now Alison knows of their bond, she can really see the deep friendship between Mary and Pat.

“Thank you,” he says. “I… I’m so sorry for scaring you all.”

Mary breaks the hug and takes Pat’s hand, leading him towards the sofa. “No saying sorry. We all understands.”

Stumbling slightly, Pat follows Mary and sits down beside Alison, still holding Mary’s hand. He stares down at his knees, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“But… I worried you all.”

“Yes, you did,” the Captain says, and Alison is about to snap at him when he adds, “However, we all understand why you acted the way you did. And I know I can speak for us all in that I’m more interested in your wellbeing than how you made me worry.”

Pat looks up, tears in his eyes. “Do you… really mean it?”

“Of course he does,” Thomas says. “Look, Patrick, it scared us to learn of these events, but mostly we all feel… ashamed we did not pick up on how you feel earlier.”

“Thomas is correct,” Fanny says. “We have known you for thirty five years, but all of us bar Mary were oblivious to your mental state. If anyone should apologise, it must be us.”

“No, that’s not right,” Pat says, sniffing. “It’s my fault you didn’t know. I hid how I felt behind a smile. That’s what I’ve always done!”

“No, don’t cry,” Mary says, rubbing Pat’s back.

He sniffs loudly and clears his throat. “I… all of you… thank you for being here.”

“No problem,” Alison says.

“Uh, when Pat and I were talking out in the woodland,” Julian says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I learned of something I think you all should know. Is it all right to share it, Pat?”

Pat stiffens, but relaxes again, eyes fixed on his knees. “Um… yeah. But… you tell them.”

Julian clears his throat. “Okay, so, basically, I learned that Pat has depression, and has had it since he was a child. The reason behind this: his mother. The bitch made him feel worthless, until Pat turned to self harm. And when he cut himself for the first time, she called him a monster. Ever since, Pat has called himself a monster when he feels bad.”

Alison freezes, oblivious to what the others are saying. She remembers back when it was Pat’s Death Day, and how he came up with a messed up plan for Alison to murder his wife. And when she told him how awful that idea was, Pat looked close to tears and called himself a monster. Oh God… so… according to what Julian just said about poor Pat’s past, he probably went and cried and moved his arrow around afterwards as a form of punishment.

“Oh, Pat…” Alison whispers.

“You poor thing, Pat,” Kitty says, fighting back tears.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Humphrey asks.

Pat glances up at Julian, who nods and continues to speak.

“Pat told me we should check up on him regularly and tell him to drop it if it’s obvious he’s wearing a fake smile. Basically…”

“We need to make sure Pat’s open about how he feels,” Alison says, and Julian and Pat both nod.

“Well, that sounds simple enough,” the Captain says.

Pat sniffs, smiling weakly. “Guys… thank you.”

And although his smile twitches and tears shine in his eyes, Alison knows it’s a real smile. And she smiles back, hoping things will be better now they all know how to help Pat.

She just wants him to feel better. And, hopefully, he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that each chapter is 1000 words longer than the last!

**Author's Note:**

> If you want me to write you a short fic, drop in a prompt at my [personal prompt meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AutisticWriters_Personal_Prompt_Meme)!


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